The Crucible: My Own Sin, The Pleasure of a Moment
by Avayueia
Summary: Play: The Crucible : Reverend John Hale and Abigail Williams have an encounter late at night when eaither need consoling very desperately. R for adult content. Please read and respond!


My Own Desperate Sins  
  
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in The Crucible; I merely borrowed them for this lovely little possibility. Before you sue me, please consider that I am a student, have no job, have no car, have no insurance and, if I had to buy something to eat, I might be able to get a Slurpie at 7-11 if I dig real hard for change under my bed.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This fanfiction is based on Arthur Miller's "The Crucible". My best friend and I were discussing what sort of fanfiction to write apart from the usual Harry Potter stories, and, in my recent infatuation with the movie version of Reverend John Hale, we fell upon this topic. Originally, I had had a fascination with John Proctor, mostly because I imagined him as my AP U.S. History teacher (who is a dish!). However, Reverend Hale is a much juicier option for this sort of writing. :) OH YES! And it is slightly out of character for Hale, but everyone had skeletons in their closet!!!!!  
  
NOTE: If you do not like reading adult content, PLEASE refrain from continuing. It might blow up you mind. I don't like cleaning up brain gooe mess. Sorry if some of the content is a bit sexually cliché.But hell, at least I am not all Anne Rice-ish. This is an Abigail Williams and Reverend John Hale adult fic. PLEASE read and respond! I will cry if you don't.  
  
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IMPORTANT! READ THIS FIRST!!!!!( This event is set to take place in after the scene where Elizabeth Proctor is taken from the Proctor home (the same scene in which John Proctor says to Hale "You are a coward! Though you be ordained in God's own tears, you are a coward now!" followed by Hale's justification.) This also follows the omitted scene where Proctor calls Abigail to the woods to tell her not to mess with his wife and he calls her a murderous bitch. After these two scenes, either character is distraught, laying the groundwork for a possibility in which this story is to take place. Please enjoy!  
  
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Abigail raced through the woods, the daemons of John Proctor's words chasing her soul. Where she ran she knew not. Trees and the branches whipped by unnoticed as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky. For the life of her, she could not remember the last time she was up so incredibly late. She figured it might be near two in the morning.  
The exhilaration and tension of the prospect of meeting a desire filled John Proctor in the woods had quickly turned to desperation and hate as he pushed her even further from their once harmonious relationship, calling her a murderous bitch and threatening to ruin her very name. She realized that in her quick anger, she had sounded quite insane, and knew in her heart of hearts he was lost to her. Abigail, however, decided that whatever the end may be she would carry through with her plan, even if John hated her in the end.  
Finally, after her breath had run thin and her blood raced through her veins like molten rock, she slowed to a stagger. Broken and exhausted, she came to a smaller road and walked a little bit. Suddenly she paused, startled at what she saw ahead. There in the road, to the side, was a small black carriage meant for one man. The first thought that raced through her muddled mind was that the Devil had finally come for her. He was here to take what he deserved. Her heart gave a great leap at the sight.  
Slowly as she approached, her fear eased into something else. She recognized the coach. It was small and spindly like most Puritan carriages. Not only was it familiar, she knew the owner. As she drew near, she could tell there was no driver.  
Her cool and tired hands danced gracefully over the smooth woodwork. It was slightly damp to the touch, for it was late in the night as dew lay on most of the woods. The small rocks and dirt crunched beneath her feet in the cool night air as she circled the carriage to the single chestnut horse. He stirred only slightly as she ran her hands from his hindquarters to his face. Gazing in to his black orb eyes, the moon shone back large and full in the sky.  
For quite a few minutes Abigail stood in the frigid night air, petting and examining the face of the horse. Never before had she realized the beauty of such a common creature. Never before had she felt so at peace with a beast of nature. With this new calmness grew a sadness spawned from a lack of fulfillment in a heart of desire. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the horse, remembering the touch she desired and once had. Over the years of he maturation, she had fancied many gentlemen. In this stifling puritan world, however, lust was hard to reckon with as all instinct is denied. Once, just for an instant in time it seemed, she had obtained a little ecstasy her body ached for only to have it soon wretched from her grasp by a cold unfeeling wretch. It had been so long since she had felt the touch of John Proctor that it was not him alone that she desired. To feel again, to feel by the touch of any man deemed desirable by her aching heart, would be haven on earth. Oh, how it would be to feel a man, a man of kindness, caring for her touch, not repulsed by her need. This and only this would fulfill her.  
Breathing heavily with her head leaned against the horse in the late night air, a deep and desperate desire rose within her. Soon after, an image arose in her head. Many a time before it had been of herself and John Proctor's previous encounters. This time, however, she thought not of him. Her earlier accosting had been momentarily forgotten in her newfound lust. Grabbing the straps of the horse's halter for support, her knees buckled under her body as her mind reeled with fantasy. The needle she had plunged into her belly earlier now lay entirely forgotten. All that mattered was preserving the fantasy, deriving what little pleasure she could before it ended.  
In the highest moment of her thoughts, a twig snapped across the road. This sound brought a reeling Abigail hurtling out of the delicious dream. In the small distance across the road stood a man she not only from that fantastic dream. He stood in the dark, almost as surprised as Abigail who was now heavily panting with desire and embarrassment.  
"Abigail?" Asked the mild and kind voice tinged with exhaustion.  
"Mr. Hale, I was just passing through." Her voice caught in her throat. The ended fantasy coupled with the heat of running wearing off produced a chill from the night. Abigail shivered and clutched herself tight. John Hale, confused by her sudden appearance and laden with apprehension for the correlation of his previous thoughts and the apparent events, came nearer. Abigail's heart raced.  
"Abigail," Hale asked in a tired and solemn voice, "What brings you out so late and far this time of night?"  
Reddening in the cheeks for remembering her thoughts, Abigail mumbled "I know not. I cannot sleep." She shivered for the night grew chillier with every second. Hugging herself tightly she looked at the ground. Hale stared back at her still confused at how she had come here.  
Abigail began to shake and shiver. Her tears came slow and muffled in the chilled night's air. It took Hale quite some time to recognize the sounds as sobs. As it was in his nature, he moved in closer to comfort the young woman.  
In Abigail's mind the thoughts raced. She knew full well what she did yet the tears flowed too easily tonight. She thought of Proctor's rejection of her entirely and of the want that laid inside her needing release. John Hale had moved in and embraced the sobbing girl. Abigail fully welcomed the warmth of the man who she had so just thought of not moments before.  
"It is all right Abigail. God will protect you." He said these words, unsure that they were entirely true. What Proctor had said earlier laid heavily on his conscious, though he knew not weather it be true. However it grew colder ad they were an hour from any destination as Abigail's sobs grew fainter in his arms. Out of care and notice for the cold, Hale remembered the heavy blanket in the carriage that would provide some warmth for them both as they would rather not catch cold. Quietly and quickly he transplanted them both from standing beside the carriage to inside and under the blanket. Abigail still cried softly, refusing to let go of his embrace. They at there for some time, Hale holding the crying girl the town thought a saint. Hale stared off into the distance, letting his mind wander over the terrain. The woods were silent and the air was still. Abigail's tears had stopped without his notice.  
She laid against his chest under a blanket quite unsure of how she had gotten there, but sure of what she wanted to do. His body was warm and inviting. Under the blanket warmth had begun to return as her tears ceased. She really did not know if the tears were real or not. With a possibly rash decision, Abigail crawled tentative into his lap, finally breaking Hale's gaze on the forest.  
Hale started and the shift of weight from his side to his lap. His eyes widened, unsure of what was happening. His mind raced with reasons of why she might do such a thing. Ultimately he kept returning to the same conclusion, one that excited and terrified him. The sin it meant never crossed his mind.  
Hale's arms still around her, Abigail felt her heart beat faster in her chest. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his upper torso, brining her breasts against his body. She could fell is breath catch in his throat and hear his heart beat faster. Abigail could feel her cheeks reddening.  
John Hale felt her arms wrap around him bringing her closer than she should have been. Her weight on top of him caught his heart in a vice and caused him to choke in surprise. His mind raced as his body reacted. His body tensed and Abigail felt it. This, however, was not the reaction of disgust. From where Abigail sat, she could feel the adrenalin racing in his body and something stirred in his lap below.  
In a slow movement, Abigail looked up from his chest and into his eyes which were agape with a certain innocence, want and confusion. She had seen this before in someone else and knew what it meant. Slowly she reached one cool hand up and around to the back of is neck. He shivered as his breath became more ragged. Pulling herself up she gazed more intently into his frightened eyes.  
Her lips met his in a shy kiss. At first he did not kiss back but froze. Slowly, however, his mind let go and he pressed backing, tightening his hold on her body and bringing her closer.  
Abigail broke the kiss and stared into his eyes which were more curious and innocent now than frightened. He was older than her but she was in control and she knew this with every ounce of her body. She kissed him again, this time less tentative and more passionate. He returned it immediately. Abigail swung her legs round to place them on either side oh his body one the seat. Pressing her breasts more firmly to his body she grabbed his hand and moved it down her waist as an indication that he could touch. Still kissing, she removed her and began to untie the front of her dress. When this was done and the top part of he breasts exposed as far down as the stitches would allow, she broke the kiss again. She brought herself up close to him in much more of a sitting position, allowing him to rest his head between what was now exposed.  
Something excited Abigail about a reverend, particularly the one who had come to clean her town, falling to her arms and lust. She felt the soft kisses in her cleavage and the tender caresses on her waist as she leant her head back. His tongue was warm on the mound of her breasts has he pulled the fabric down to reveal a hardened left nipple. He took it into his mouth without a second thought. Abigail moaned slightly as his teeth and tongue played. Hale shifted under her weight as his arousal begun to take real shape in the restricting pants. Exposing the other breast he did the same, causing more slight sounds from the girl's throat.  
Thoroughly consumed with lust, Abigail stopped his kisses to her chest and shoved him against the back of the carriage with a kiss rough enough to bruise lips. Hale, startled at her rough actions, and became obviously aroused. Abigail could feel this even through her layers of skirts. Impassioned, she quickly worked to undo the buttons at the front of his jacket and the clean white shirt underneath until she had exposed his pale chest to the moonlight. His chest rose with heavy breath as she pushed his head back, kissing at his neck slowly down to the collarbone where she lingered a moment, then worked he way back up. Abigail let her hands wander through the sparse hair on his chest, finding his nipples. She pinched the right one hard, allowing Hale to yelp in surprise, then softly massaged it, repeating the process several more times.  
Lowering her head below his chest, she lavished kisses down his stomach and un-tucked the remainder of his shirt. Hale, unsure of what to do with his arms now that Abigail had moved her body down between his legs and was kissing his stomach, held them in mid air. This, however, did not last long. Abigail had reached the line of his pants and worked swiftly to undo them as Hale's breath quickened even more. From his pants she delicately removed his erection. Hale whimpered slightly, moving his arms above his body as he threw his head back and grasped a runner that held up the back of the carriage. He looked back down just as Abigail too him into her mouth. He moaned and his body shook as she worked him. Up and down she worked her head, heeding every movement and sound of ecstasy produced from Hale. At once his body stiffened as he whimpered frantically before release.  
Collapsing back into the seat, Abigail moved back up on top. His breath, shallow and raged, was cut short again by another one of her kisses. She reached down between his legs as they kissed and stroked him back into arousal. The flush in his cheeks was readily visible. Breasts still exposed, she pushed their naked chests together, ready for what she truly wanted. Quickly she lifted herself and removed her various underskirts entirely forgetting the chill in the air as the heat from her desire kept her warm.  
"Abigail..." Hale began in a shakily questioning voice. But before he could continue she silenced him with another kiss. His erection grew with every moment as she stroked him again. Pulling her skirts up, legs placed on either side, she leaned her head against his shoulder as she brought herself down and he into her. Gasping, Hale clutched at her back and Abigail grasped the back of the seat for support. Slowly moving herself up and down, Hale kissed at her neck and chest. Both hips bucking more frantically, Hale and Abigail sweated a cold sweat in the night's air.  
A pleasured scream rang through the night as Abigail and Hale reached their climax, pulling one another closer. Sliding down again to sit in his lap, Abigail rested her head once again on his chest, though this time exposed and damp with sweat. As their movements had ceased, Hale pulled the thick blanket up around them once more to protect from the cold. Abigail quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the day's events. Hale sat for a moment longer, lids heavy, then fell to slumber himself wrapped in the warm embrace of Abigail.  
As the sun barley crept over the horizon, Abigail woke silently and stole glance to the peaceful sleeping face of Hale. Gently she re-buttoned his shirt and pants, setting him in relative order. She quickly re-dressed herself and climbed out of the carriage. Straightening her gowns, she made her way down the road, satisfied.  
  
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Okay. I might come up with a better ending later. Bu I am currently in the process of writing much more sin oriented Hale/Abigail fic. I hope to have that up soon. RESPOND PLEASE!!!! 


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